Most persons when they commence the study of the great
As long as we continued under this idea, the impression produced
upon us by "Macbeth" came far short of that sense of complete
satisfaction which we were accustomed to receive from every other
of the higher works of Shakspere. But, upon deeper study, the
view now proposed suggested itself, and seemed to render every
thing as it should be. We say that this view suggested
itself, because it did not arise directly from any one of
the numerous passages which can be quoted in its support; it
originated in a general feeling of what seemed to be wanting to
the completion of the entire effect; a circumstance which has
been stated at length from the persuasion that it is of itself no
mean presumption in favour of the opinion which it is the aim of
this paper to establish.
Let us proceed to examine the validity of a position, which,
* It is proper to state that this article was written, and seen,
exactly as it at present stands, by several literary friends of
the writer, a considerable time before the appearance, in the
"Westminster Review," of a Paper advocating a view of "Macbeth,"
similar to that which is here taken. But although the publication of the particular view was thus anticipated, nearly
all the most forcible arguments for maintaining it were omitted;
and the subject, mixed up, as it was, with lengthy disquisitions
upon very minor topics of Shaksperian acting, &c. made no very
general impression at the time.
if it deserves any attention at all, may certainly claim an
investigation more than usually minute. We shall commence by
giving an analysis of the first Act, wherein will be considered,
successively, every passage which may appear to bear either way
upon the point in question.
The inferences which we believe to be deducible from the first
scene can be profitably employed only in conjunction with those
to be discovered in the third. Our analysis must, therefore, be
entered upon by an attempt to ascertain the true character of the
impressions which it was the desire of Shakspere to convey by the
second.
This scene is almost exclusively occupied with the narrations of
the "bleeding Soldier," and of Rosse. These narrations
are constructed with the express purpose of vividly setting forth
the personal valour of Duncan's generals, "Macbeth and Banquo."
Let us consider what is the maximum worth which the words
of Shakspere will, at this period of the play, allow us to
attribute to the moral character of the hero: -- a point, let it
be observed, of first-rate importance to the present argument.
We find Macbeth, in this scene, designated by various epithets,
all of which, either directly or indirectly, arise from
feelings of admiration created by his courageous conduct in the
war in which he is supposed to have been engaged. "Brave" and
"Noble Macbeth," "Bellona's Bridegroom," "Valiant Cousin," and
"Worthy Gentleman," are the general titles by which he is here
spoken of; but none of them afford any positive clue whatever to
his moral character. Nor is any such clue supplied by the
scenes in which he is presently received by the messengers of
Duncan, and afterwards received and lauded by Duncan himself.
Macbeth's moral character, up to the development of his criminal
hopes, remains strictly negative. Hence it is difficult
to fathom the meaning of those critics, (A. Schlegel at their
head), who have over and over again made the ruin of Macbeth's
"so many noble qualities"* the subject of their comment.
In the third scene we have the meeting of the witches, the
announcement of whose intention to re-assemble upon the heath,
there to meet with Macbeth, forms the certainly most
obvious, though not perhaps, altogether the most important, aim
of the short scene by which the tragedy is opened. An enquiry of
much interest here suggests itself. Did Shakspere intend that in
his tragedy of "Macbeth" the witches should figure as originators
of gratuitous destruction, in direct opposition to the
traditional, and
* A. Schlegel's "Lectures on Dramatic Literature." Vol. II. p.
208.
even proverbial, character of the genus? By that
character such personages have been denied the possession of any
influence whatever over the untainted soul. Has Shakspere in
this instance retained, or has he abolished, the chief of those
characteristics which have been universally attributed to the
beings in question?
We think that he has retained it, and for the following reasons:
Whenever Shakspere has elsewhere embodied superstitions, he has
treated them as direct and unalterable facts of human
nature; and this he has done because he was too profound a
philosopher to be capable of regarding genuine superstition as
the product of random spectra of the fancy, having absolute
darkness for the prime condition of their being, instead of
seeing in it rather the zodiacal light of truth, the concomitant
of the uprising, and of the setting of the truth, and a partaker
in its essence. Again, Shakspere has in this very play devoted a
considerable space to the purpose of suggesting the self-same
trait of character now under discussion, and this he appears to
have done with the express intent of guarding against a mistake,
the probability of the occurrence of which he foresaw, but which,
for reasons connected with the construction of the play, he could
not hope otherwise to obviate.
We allude to the introductory portion of the present scene. One
sister, we learn, has just returned from killing swine;
another breathes forth vengeance against a sailor, on account of
the uncharitable act of his wife; but "his bark cannot be
lost," though it may be "tempest tossed." The last words are
scarcely uttered before the confabulation is interrupted by the
approach of Macbeth, to whom they have as yet made no direct
allusion whatever, throughout the whole of this opening passage,
consisting in all of some five and twenty lines. Now this were a
digression which would be a complete anomaly, having place, as it
is supposed to have, at this early stage of one of the most
consummate of the tragedies of Shakspere. We may be sure,
therefore, that it is the chief object of these lines to impress
the reader beforehand with an idea that, in the mind of Macbeth,
there already exist sure foundations for that great
superstructure of evil, to the erection of which, the
"metaphysical aid" of the weird sisters is now to be
offered. An opinion which is further supported by the reproaches
of Hecate, who, afterwards, referring to what occurs in this
scene, exclaims,
Words which seem to relate to ends loved of Macbeth before the
witches had spurred him on to their acquirement.
The fact that in the
Proceeding now with our analysis, upon the entrance of Macbeth
and Banquo, the witches wind up their hurried charm. They are
first perceived by Banquo. To his questions the sisters refuse
to reply; but, at the command of Macbeth, they immediately speak,
and forthwith utter the prophecy which seals the fate of
Duncan.
Now, assuming the truth of our view, what would be the natural
behaviour of Macbeth upon coming into sudden contact with beings
who appear to hold intelligence of his most secret thoughts; and
upon hearing those thoughts, as it were, spoken aloud in the
presence of a third party? His behaviour would be precisely that
which is implied by the question of Banquo.
When the witches are about to vanish, Macbeth attempts to delay
their departure, exclaiming,
No sooner have the witches vanished than Banquo begins to doubt
whether there had been "such things there as they did speak
about." This is the natural incredulity of a free mind so
circumstanced. On the other hand, Macbeth, whose manner, since
the first announcement of the sisters, has been that of a man in
a reverie, makes no doubt whatsoever of the reality of
their appearance, nor does he reply to the expressed scepticism
of Banquo, but abruptly exclaims, "your children shall be kings."
To this Banquo answers, "you shall be king." "And thane of
Cawdor too: went it not so?" continues Macbeth. Now, what, in
either case, is the condition of mind which can have given rise
to this part of the dialogue? It is, we imagine, sufficiently
evident that the playful words of Banquo were suggested to
Shakspere by the narration of Holinshed; but how do we account
for those of Macbeth, otherwise than by supposing that the
question of the crown is now settled in his mind by the
coincidence of the principal prediction, with the shapings of his
own thoughts, and that he is at this moment occupied with the
wholly unanticipated revelations, touching the thaneship
of Cawdor, and the future possession of the throne by the
offspring of Banquo?
Now comes the fulfilment of the first prophecy. Mark the words
of these men, upon receiving the announcement of Rosse:
The soliloquy which immediately follows the above passage is
particularly worthy of comment:
After the above soliloquy Macbeth breaks the long pause, implied
in Banquo's words, "Look how our partner's rapt," by
exclaiming,
Towards the conclusion of the fourth scene, Duncan names his
successor in the realm of Scotland. After this Macbeth hastily
departs, to inform his wife of the king's proposed visit to their
castle, at Inverness. The last words of Macbeth are the
following,
The fifth scene opens with Lady Macbeth's perusal of her
husband's narration of his interview with the witches. The order
of our investigation requires the postponement of comment upon
the contents of this letter. We leave it for the present, merely
cautioning the reader against taking up any hasty objections to a
very important clause in the enunciation of our view by reminding
him that, contrary to Shakspere's custom in ordinary cases, we
are made acquainted only with a portion of the missive in
question. Let us then proceed to consider the soliloquy which
immediately follows the perusal of this letter:
It is vividly apparent that this passage indicates a knowledge of
the character it depicts, which is far too intimate to allow of
its being other than a direct inference from facts
connected with previous communications upon similar topics
between the speaker and the writer: unless, indeed, we assume
that in this instance Shakspere has notably departed from his
usual principles of characterization, in having invested Lady
Macbeth with an amount of philosophical acuteness, and a faculty
of deduction, much beyond those pretended to by any other of the
female creations of the same author.
The above passage is interrupted by the announcement of the
approach of Duncan. Observe Lady Macbeth's behaviour upon
receiving it. She immediately determines upon what is to be
done, and all without (are we to suppose?) in any way consulting,
or being aware of, the wishes or inclinations of her husband!
Observe too, that neither does she appear to regard the
witches' prophecies as anything more than an invitation, and
holding forth of "metaphysical aid" to the carrying out of
an independent project. That this should be the case in both
instances vastly strengthens the argument legitimately deducible
from each.
At the conclusion of the passage which called for the last
remark, Macbeth, after a long and eventful period of absence, let
it be recollected, enters to a wife who, we will for a moment
suppose, is completely ignorant of the character of her husband's
recent cogitations. These are the first words which pass between
them,
of them? That is to say a situation in which each speaker is
totally ignorant of the sentiments pre-existent in the mind of
the other. Are the words, "we will speak further," those
which might in nature form the whole and sole reply made by a man
to his wife's completely unexpected anticipation of his own
fearful purposes? If not, if few or none of these lines, thus
interpreted, will satisfy the reader's feeling for common truth,
does not the view which we have adopted invest them with new
light, and improved, or perfected meaning?
The next scene represents the arrival of Duncan at Inverness, and
contains nothing which bears either way upon the point in
question. Proceeding, therefore, to the seventh and last scene
of the first act we come to what we cannot but consider to be
proof positive of the opinion under examination. We shall
transcribe at length the portion of this scene containing that
proof; having first reminded the reader that a few hours at most
can have elapsed between the arrival of Macbeth, and the period
at which the words, now to be quoted, are uttered.
Again the whole tenor of this passage shows that it refers to
verbal communication between them. But no such communication
can have taken place since Macbeth's rencontre with the
witches; for, besides that he is, immediately after that
recontre, conducted to the presence of the king, who there
signifies an intention of proceeding directly to Macbeth's
castle, such a communication would have rendered the contents of
the letter to Lady Macbeth completely superfluous. What then are
we to conclude concerning these problematical lines? First
begging the reader to bear in mind the tone of sophistry which
has been observed by Schlegel to pervade, and which is indeed
manifest throughout the persuasions of Lady Macbeth, we answer,
that she wilfully confounds her husband's, -- probably vague and
unplanned -- "enterprise" of obtaining the crown, with that
"nearest way" to which she now urges him; but, at the same time,
she obscurely individualizes the separate purposes in the words,
"and to be more than what you were, you would be so much
more the man."
It is a fact which is highly interesting in itself, and one which
strongly impeaches the candour of the majority of Shakspere's
commentators, that the impenetrable obscurity which must have
pervaded the whole of this passage should never have been made
the subject of remark. As far as we can remember, not a word has
been said upon the matter in any one of the many superfluously
explanatory editions of our dramatist's productions. Censures
have been repeatedly lavished upon minor cases of obscurity, none
upon this. In the former case the fault has been felt to be
Shakspere's,
for it has usually existed in the expression; but in the latter
the language is unexceptional, and the avowal of obscurity might
imply the possibility of misapprehension or stupidity upon the
part of the avower.
Probably the only considerable obstacle likely to act against the
general adoption of those views will be the doubt, whether so
important a feature of this consummate tragedy can have been left
by Shakspere so obscurely expressed as to be capable of remaining
totally unperceived during upwards of two centuries, within which
period the genius of a Coleridge and of a Schlegel has been
applied to its interpretation. Should this objection be brought
forward, we reply, in the first place, that the objector is
'begging' his question in assuming that the feature under
examination has remained totally unperceived. Coleridge
by way of comment upon these words of Banquo,
But, putting Coleridge's imperfect perception of the truth out of
the question, surely nothing can be easier than to believe
that for the belief in which we have so many precedents.
How many beauties, lost upon Dryden, were perceived by Johnson;
How many, hidden to Johnson and his cotemporaries, have been
brought to light by Schlegel and by Coleridge.
Last modified 5/22/95
"All you have done
Hath been but for a wayward son,
Spiteful, and wrathful, who, as others do,
Loves for his own end, not for you."
"Good sir, why do you start and seem to fear
Things which do sound so fair?"
If, on the other hand, our view is not true, why, seeing
that their characters are in the abstract so much alike, why does
the present conduct of Macbeth differ from that of Banquo, when
the witches direct their prophecies to him? Why has Shakspere
altered the narrative of Holinshed, without the prospect of
gaining any advantage commensurate to the licence taken in making
that alteration? These are the words of the old chronicle: "This
(the recontre with the witches) was reputed at the first but some
vain fantastical illusion by Macbeth and Banquo, insomuch that
Banquo would call Macbeth in jest king of Scotland; and Macbeth
again would call him in jest likewise the father of many kings."
Now it was the invariable practice of Shakspere to give facts or
traditions just as he found them, whenever the introduction of
those facts or traditions was not totally irreconcileable with
the tone of his conception. How then (should we still receive
the notion which we are now combating) are we to account for his
anomalous practice in this particular case? "Stay, you imperfect speakers, tell me more:
By Sinol's death, I know I am thane of Glamis;
But how of Cawdor? the thane of Cawdor lives,
A prosperous gentleman; and, to be king
Stands not within the prospect of belief,
No more than to be Cawdor. Say, from whence
You owe this strange intelligence?"
"To be king stands not within the prospect of belief, no more
than to be Cawdor." No! it naturally stands much less
within the prospect of belief. Here the mind of Macbeth, having
long been accustomed to the nurture of its "royal hope,"
conceives that it is uttering a very suitable hyperbole of
comparison. Had that mind been hitherto an honest mind the word
"Cawdor" would have occupied the place of "king," "king" that of
"Cawdor." Observe too the general character of this speech:
Although the coincidence of the principal prophecy with his own
thoughts has so strong an effect upon Macbeth as to induce him
to, at once, pronounce the words of the sisters, "intelligence;"
he nevertheless affects to treat that prophecy as completely
secondary to the other in the strength of its claims upon his
consideration. This is a piece of over-cautious hypocrisy
which is fully in keeping with the tenor of his conduct
throughout the rest of the tragedy. "Banquo. What! can the devil speak truth?
Macbeth. The thane of Cawdor lives: why do you dressme
In borrowed robes?"
Mark how that reception is in either case precisely the reverse
of that given to the prophecy itself. Here Banquo starts.
But what is here done for Banquo, by the coincidence of the
prophecy with the truth, has been already done for Macbeth, by
the coincidence of his thought with the prophecy. Accordingly,
Macbeth is calm enough to play the hypocrite, when he must
otherwise have experienced surprise far greater than that of
Banquo, because he is much more nearly concerned in the source of
it. So far indeed from being overcome with astonishment, Macbeth
still continues to dwell upon the prophecy, by which his peace of
mind is afterwards constantly disturbed, "Do you not hope your children shall be kings,
When those that gave the thane of Cawdor to me
Promised no less to them?"
Banquo's reply to this question has been one of the chief sources
of the interpretation, the error of which we are now endeavouring
to expose. He says, "That, trusted home,
Might yet enkindle you unto the crown,
Besides the thane of Cawdor. But, 'tis strange;
And often times, to win us to our harm,
The instruments of darkness tell us truths,
Win us with honest trifles, to betray us
In deepest consequence."
Now, these words have usually been considered to afford the clue
to the entire nature and extent of the supernatural
influence brought into play upon the present tragedy; whereas, in
truth, all that they express is a natural suspicion, called up in
the mind of Banquo, by Macbeth's remarkable deportment, that
such is the character of the influence which is at this
moment being exerted upon the soul of the man to whom he
therefore thinks proper to hint the warning they contain. "This supernatural soliciting
Cannot be ill; cannot be good: -- if ill,
Why hath it given me earnest of success,
Commencing in a truth? I am thane of Cawdor:
If good, why do I yield to that suggestion,
Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair,
And make my seated heart knock at my ribs
Against the use of nature? Present fears
Are less than horrible imaginings.
My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical,
Shakes so my single state of man, that function
Is smothered in surmise, and nothing is,
But what is not."
The early portion of this passage assuredly indicates that
Macbeth regards the communications of the witches merely in the
light of an invitation to the carrying out of a design
pre-existent in his own mind. He thinks that the
spontaneous fulfilment of the chief prophecy is in no way
probable; the consummation of the lesser prophecy being held by
him, but as an "earnest of success" to his own efforts in
consummating the greater. From the latter portion of this
soliloquy we learn the real extent to which "metaphysical aid" is
implicated in bringing about the crime of Duncan's murder. It
serves to assure Macbeth that that is the "nearest way" to
the attainment of his wishes; -- a way to the suggestion of which
he now, for the first time, "yields," because the chances
of its failure have been infinitely lessened by the "earnest of
success" which he has just received. "If chance will have me king, why chance may crownme,
Without my stir."
Which is a very logical conclusion; but one at which he would
long ago have arrived, had "soliciting" meant "suggestion," as
most people suppose it to have done; or at least, under those
circumstances, he would have been satisfied with that conclusion,
instead of immediately afterwards changing it, as we see that he
has done, when he adds, "Come what come may,
Time and the hour runs through the roughest day!"
With that the third scene closes; the parties engaged in it
proceeding forthwith to the palace of Duncan at Fores. "The prince of Cumberland! -- That is a step,
On which I must fall down, or else o'erleap.
For in my way it lies. Stars, hide your fires!
Let not light see my black and deep desires;
The eye wink at the hand; yet let that be,
Which the eye fears, when it is done, to see."
These lines are equally remarkable for a tone of settled
assurance as to the fulfilment of the speaker's royal hope, and
for an entire absence of any expression of reliance upon the
power of the witches, -- the hitherto supposed originators of that hope,
-- in aiding its consummation. It is particularly
noticeable that Macbeth should make no reference whatever, not
even in thought, (that is, in soliloquy) to any supernatural
agency during the long period intervening between the fulfilment
of the two prophecies. Is it probable that this would have been
the case had Shakspere intended that such an agency should be
understood to have been the first motive and mainspring of that
deed, which, with all its accompanying struggles of conscience,
he has so minutely pictured to us as having been, during that
period, enacted? But besides this negative argument, we have a
positive one for his non-reliance upon their promises in the fact
that he attempts to outwit them by the murder of Fleance even
after the fulfilment of the second prophecy. "I do fear thy nature.
It is too full o' the milk of human kindness,
To catch the nearest way: thou wouldst be great;
Art not without ambition; but without
The illness should attend it. That thou wouldsthighly,
That wouldst thou holily; wouldst not play false
And yet wouldst wrongly win: thou'dst have, greatGlamis,
That which cries this thou must do if thou have it,
And that which rather thou dost fear to do,
Thou wishest should be undone."
"Macbeth. My dearest love,
Duncan comes here to-night.
L. Macbeth. And when goes hence?
Macbeth. To-morrow, as he purposes.
L. Macbeth. Oh! never
Shall sun that morrow see!
Your face, my thane, is as a book where men
May read strange matters: -- to beguile the time,
Look like the time; bear welcome in your eye,
Your hand, your tongue: look like the innocent flower,
But be the serpent under it. He that's coming
Must be provided for; and you shall put
This night's great business into my dispatch,
Which shall to all our nights and days to come
Give solely sovereign sway and masterdom.
Macbeth. We will speak further."
Are these words those which would naturally arise from the
situation at present, by common consent, attributed to the
speakers "Lady Macbeth. Was the hope drunk,
Wherein you dressed yourself? Hath it slept since,
And wakes it now, to look so green and pale
At what it did so freely? From this time,
Such I account thy love. Art thou afeard
To be the same in thine own act and valour,
As thou art in desire? Would'st thou have that
Which thou esteem'st the ornament of life,
And live a coward in thine own esteem,
Letting, I dare not, wait upon, I would,
Like the poor cat in the adage?
Macbeth. Prithee, peace:
I dare do all that may become a man;
Who dares do more is none.
Lady Macbeth. What beast was't then
That made you break this enterprise to me?
When you durst do it, then you were a man,
And to be more than what you were you would
Be so much more the man. Nor time nor place
Did then adhere, and yet you would make both.
They have made themselves, and that their fitness now
Does unmake you. I have given suck, and know
How tender 'tis to love the babe that milks me:
I would, while it was smiling in my face,
Have plucked my nipple from its boneless gums,
And dashed the brains out, had I so sworn
As you have done to this."
With respect to the above lines, let us observe that, the words,
"nor time nor place did then adhere," render it evident that they
hold reference to something which passed before Duncan had
signified his intention of visiting the castle of Macbeth.
Consequently the words of Lady Macbeth can have no reference to
the previous communication of any definite intention, on the part
of her husband, to murder the king; because, not long before, she
professes herself aware that Macbeth's nature is "too full of the
milk of human kindness to catch the nearest way;" indeed, she has
every reason to suppose that she herself has been the means of
breaking that enterprise to him, though, in truth, the
crime had already, as we have seen, suggested itself to his
thought, "whose murder was as yet fantastical." "Good sir, why do you stand, and seem to fear
Things that do sound so fair?"
writes thus: "The general idea is all that can be required of a
poet -- not a scholastic logical consistency in all the parts, so
as to meet metaphysical objectors. * * * * * * * * How strictly
true to nature it is, that Banquo, and not Macbeth himself,
directs our notice to the effects produced in Macbeth's mind,
rendered temptible by previous dalliance with ambitious
thoughts." Here Coleridge denies the necessity of
"logical consistency, so as to meet metaphysical objectors,"
although he has, throughout his criticisms upon Shakspere,
endeavored, and nearly always with success, to prove the
existence of that consistency; and so strongly has he felt
the want of it here, that he has, in order to satisfy himself,
assumed that "previous dalliance with ambitious thoughts,"
whose existence it has been our object to prove.